What Friends Are For
by Dalek Warrior
Summary: After being shot in 'personal' Deeks returns to his apartment. Who comes to take care of him?


**Author's Note: Hi, this is my first NCIS LA fic. Since I'm such a huge fan of the episode 'Personal', I thought I would do a short story about Callen taking care of Deeks once he has returned home. Please enjoy and review. **

**What Friends Are For**

Marty Deeks was lying carefully slouched down in the armchair parked in front of the TV in his living room watching classic James Bond films. He was thirsty yet didn't dare reach for the beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him for fear of aggravating his still fresh gunshot wounds. Every time he would move his chest would spasm and pain would radiate from his chest all the way down to his feet, so he tried his best to move only when necessary. He probably should have grabbed the beer before lying down but there wasn't much he could do about it now. He was dressed in a pair of grey comfy sweats, and his favorite green t-shirt covered the bandages wrapped securely around his torso, concealing the painful wounds underneath.

He could have asked Kensi to help him but she had already been here helping him for two days and he had sent her home to rest before returning to work. That probably wasn't the best idea but he could deal with the pain if he had to, besides…it had only been a few hours, there was no reason for him to panic over spending a few hours on his own. Eventually Deeks fell asleep, waking up as the last credits rolled across the screen. At the same time the doorbell rang loudly, ridding the last remnants of sleep from Deeks's mind.

Taking a deep breath he leaned forward off the chair and felt sharp pains blossom throughout his chest. Hunched up in a fetal position, Deeks didn't even register the sound of someone picking the locks on his door. Suddenly Deeks felt a hand on his shoulder, he twisted his head up in surprise and was relieved to see it was Callen and not some criminal come to shoot him again. Callen quickly came to crouch in front of Deeks and immediately knew Deeks had just done.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked exasperatedly.

"Heard the doorbell…was coming to get it." He gasped out through gritted teeth as the last of the pain started disappearing.

"You were just shot, you shouldn't be getting out of bed, let alone answering the door!"

"I'll be fine." Deeks answered determinately.

"Yeah, you look fine to me." Callen answered, his attention diverted to Deeks stomach where some blood had seeped through his bandages onto his shirt.

"Where do you keep your bandages?"

"Why would you need, oh!" Deeks looked down at his shirt.

"Damn, that was my favorite one."

"Deeks, the bandages."

"Oh yeah, bathroom cabinet. Second shelf." He finished distractedly, still focused on his ruined t-shirt.

Callen walked over to the tidy bathroom and began looking through Deeks cabinet. To his disappointment he didn't find any sort of hair products, the guy really did have naturally sexy hair. He grabbed the thick white gauze and sanitizer and made his way back over to the couch. During the time he had been gone Deeks had managed to lean back against the couch and looked thoroughly exhausted. For once he didn't look like he was a kid on a sugar rush, he looked like a man that had just been on death's door. He had his eyes closed and didn't register Callen's reappearance.

Callen moved to the front of the couch and gently lifted Deeks shirt up just far enough to reveal the gauze. He peeled the gauze up slowly and saw the bullet wound. For a .22 the gun sure did seem to do a lot of damage. It sure looked like it would hurt like hell for quite a while. Callen felt eyes watching him and looked up to see Deeks peering at him curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm changing your bandages, you're bleeding. I don't know what safety course LAPD gave but in mine they taught that blood is never a good sign."

"I can do that myself."

"No you can't Deeks. You nearly passed out sitting up. I was shot too and I couldn't live on my own for weeks, let alone change my own bandages. I'm your teammate, you've gotta trust me."

"I do trust you Callen, I just never expected any of you to help me like this."

"Well that better change, next time one of us is shot we expect the same from you, and if it's Sam it'll take all of us to lift him up." Callen told Deeks. He gave a joke at the end but Deeks could tell he was telling the truth, however uncomfortable it made him.

"Here, let me get your shirt off." Callen said.

He carefully pulled the shirt up off of Deeks's chest and over his head until his torso was exposed. He peeled the gauze off of his chest to reveal both gunshot wounds. When the air hit the tender flesh Marty gasped in pain. Callen rubbed his leg comfortingly, giving him a moment to adjust. Giving Deeks an apologetic glance he rubbed the alcohol swabs over the bloody area causing Deeks to clench his fists to keep from crying out. Despite these wounds always being painful it was ten times worse during these ordeals. Callen did his best to tape down the thick bandages, trying to avoid putting pressure anywhere near the entry wounds.

Callen rose from his spot on the ground and sat in the armchair opposite Deeks, watching his expression. It was obvious he was tired and in pain, he hadn't spoken a word since removing the bandages. Spotting some pain pills on the coffee table, Callen walked to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. When he returned Deeks had nearly fallen asleep. He nudged his leg gently, slowly eliciting a response. Marty opened his eyes wearily and saw Callen staring at him, he was still here?

"Here take this." He said, Deeks saw some of the pain relief pills the doctor had prescribed sitting in the palm of Callen's hand.

He lifted his hand and grabbed the pills, popping them in his mouth. The pills were quickly replaced by a glass of water pressed into his hand. Deeks hadn't realized how thirsty he had been and drained the whole glass. At this point he could barely keep his eyes open, sleep was quickly overtaking him. A hand grabbed the empty glass before it hit the ground. Deeks heard a voice through the fog of sleep.

"I'll be here when you wake up."

"Thanks." Deeks managed to utter before exhaustion overtook him and he fell very nearly unconscious.

Callen looked over at the form of his sleeping teammate. He grabbed the blanket hanging off the side of the couch and slung it over Deeks's naked chest. Snatching the remote from the armrest of the couch, Callen took his place on the nearby armchair. Content to flick channels while Deeks slept, Callen bided his time until his teammate would need him again. After all, what were friends for?


End file.
